Pyongyang Memo; North Koreans, Belts Tight, Cobble Up a Future

Published: February 25, 2001

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At Pyongyang's chilly but interesting Folk Museum, a friendly tour-guide committed the political equivalent of a Freudian slip as she lectured six visiting Americans about traditional fishing techniques: After searching for the English name for a fish (it was perch), and chatting about the difficulties of translating for English speakers, she referred to Americans as ''U.S. imperia. . . '' -- before catching herself. Old habits.

And it is, similarly, sometimes hard for a ''U.S. imperialist'' to see past North Korea's reputation as the world's strangest ''rogue state'' and perhaps the world's most heavily militarized country for its size.

Foreign experts estimate that about 5 percent of North Koreans -- one million people -- are in the armed forces. And soldiers, like scraggly mountains, are ubiquitous features of the North Korean landscape.

In Pyongyang, soldiers in gray-green padded winter uniforms dot the streets. They shovel snow or repair roads. Unsmiling, they man the checkpoints that ring the capital, deciding who may enter and who will be turned away.

On one drive out of Pyongyang, several soldiers -- guns in hand and cornstalks waving out of their backpacks for camouflage -- were marching over a low hill, apparently engaged in military exercises. Even at tourist sites, soldiers out to see the sights are numerous enough that the government's prohibition on photographing military personnel can make it difficult to take a snapshot.

Against this backdrop, it is easy for foreigners to jump to conclusions: On a recent snowy Friday, a small group of visitors representing Western aid groups were bused to the Tong Myun Tombs on the outskirts of Pyongyang. (Work and meetings were out of the question because -- it being Friday -- so many North Koreans were busy with monuments.) Suddenly, a distant thuk-thuk-thuk sounded over the hills. The foreigners agreed that it sounded like gunfire. One finally asked: ''What's that?''

Their young North Korean minder smiled and said: ''Just a tractor. But you Americans! You thought it was a tank! Right?''

Still, here and there, one sees small signs of change. At the Koryo Hotel, staff members who two years ago were by all accounts surly and distant are now warm and hospitable, bringing hot water and extra blankets to compensate for the lack of heat.

With the state providing less food, the government has even tolerated a whiff of private enterprise. City dwellers raise pigs and chickens in apartments. The private farmers markets -- which used to occur two or three times a month -- are now daily occurrences. Along the roadside, a woman was selling cigarettes, most likely smuggled from China, from under her coat.

And money -- even foreign currency -- is creeping into what was previously a nearly cashless economy, where people lived on government provisions. In the past, holding American dollars was dangerous; ordinary people had few places to spend them and faced certain trouble if the security forces found out. But today, dollar bills have become a much-valued currency.

And some people seem to have a lot of them. While the Koryo Hotel is short on light and heat, its first-floor restaurant still serves an impressive bulgogi, a traditional Korean beef barbecue. And though the food is expensive -- and priced in dollars -- the restaurant is generally packed, with foreign guests as well as a number of North Koreans.

At the cashier's desk on a recent night, three young men wearing remarkably well-tailored black Mao-type suits and Kim Il Sung pins chatted casually as the waitress tallied their tab, a long mix of food and alcohol. When she announced the total, no one blinked. One nonchalantly pulled a crisp $100 bill out of his wallet.

Photos: North Koreans make do with little, but there are small signs of change. People in Nampo at a groundbreaking for an auto factory last February. (Gerald Herbert/The Washington Times); Reminders of the late Kim Il Sung, the Great Leader, are ubiquitous in Pyongyang and just about everywhere else in the country he founded. (Associated Press)